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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26644030">Workin' Up a Sweat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BartonStark'>BartonStark (BloodEnvy)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gym Sex, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Public Hand Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:14:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26644030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BartonStark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Clint don’t get a lot of time together between missions, so you spend every moment together that you can. You’re spotting Clint during his workout, and you decide to take full advantage of the fact that you have the gym all to yourselves.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton/Original Character(s), Clint Barton/Original Female Character(s), Clint Barton/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Workin' Up a Sweat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic contains sexual situations while on gym equipment. This is actually very dangerous -- please don't attempt to  recreate! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I don’t know why you bothered to ask me to spot you, honey. I can barely lift <em>one </em>of these things.” you said, groaning as you helped lift yet another weight onto the barbell. “You would have been better off asking Steve, or… I don’t know. Sam, maybe.”</p><p>“Maybe I just wanted to spend more time with you,” Clint suggested with an easy smirk, wiping sweat from his brow. He was already three sets in, and he took a moment to catch his breath before smacking a playful, childish kiss to your cheek as he sat down.</p><p>“Sweet talker.”</p><p>You moved to stand between his thighs, rubbing your fingers through his sweat-damp hair and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. He tilted his head back to smile up at you, a dimple showing in his cheek. He snaked his arms around your waist possessively, and you leaned into him for a moment before leaning down to kiss him. His lips lingered against yours for a few sweet moments before you pulled away, ruffling his hair as you did. He hummed lightly as you did, always a sucker when it came to you playing with his hair. He tried to keep you there, but you unwrapped his arms from around you, hands holding his for a moment before dropping them and moving to stand behind the weights bench.</p><p>You sighed as he lay down on the bench, making himself comfortable under the bar. “I just wish this stop over was a little longer.”</p><p>The two of you didn’t often get much time together; between his work with both the Avengers and SHIELD, and yours with the latter, it was rare that you got more than a few days of leave together at a time. You now had almost an entire week, but you were still expected to attend briefings and complete training sessions in the downtime. The rest of your time together was spent curled up in each other in his quarters at the compound, the two of you desperate for that quiet intimacy you both craved whenever you were apart.</p><p>“Careful there,” Clint joked, grunting as he began his next set. “Our whole relationship might be based on you not seeing me enough to get sick of me.”</p><p>“You know, Nat’s always suggesting the exact same thing,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stark too, actually.”</p><p>“See?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” you shrugged casually. “I always told them it was because you were total dynamite in the sack.”</p><p>Clint snickered through gritted teeth, and your head tilted to the side as you watched the muscles in his rms strain under the weights. “Cheers.”</p><p>“Don’t get too excited. Stark didn’t believe me.”</p><p>“Remind me to kick his ass later.”</p><p>“Will do.” you said. “Should probably wait ‘til Nat’s back in town. She’d never forgive you if she didn’t get to watch.”</p><p>“I’ll just have JARVIS record it.”</p><p>“You’re so smart, baby.” you chuckled, and he winked up at you.</p><p>The two of you fell silent for a while as he worked out. You continued to watch the corded muscles of his arms, the set of his jaw, the rise and fall of his chest under the tight tank top he wore. He really was like a kind of poetry in motion, each of his muscles bulging and stretching and relaxing with his movements in an almost sinful manner. It brought back images of the way his body covered yours in bed, the way he’d wrap himself around you, firm and protective. You hummed, almost longingly, as he set the bar back in place.</p><p>“What?” he asked, a little out of breath. He arched his neck to look at you, upside down, an eyebrow cocked in amusement. He knew you well enough to recognize your tells, and that little hum was no different… he knew perfectly well what had distracted you.</p><p>“Nothing,” you replied innocently, a little embarrassed to be caught out in your musings. Still, you really didn’t get much time together, and the gym was otherwise deserted for the moment. Most of the Avengers were out of town for one commitment or another. “It’s just that <strong>you’re cute even when you make that face.</strong>”</p><p>“What face?”</p><p>“Oh, you know…” you said casually, moving slowly around to his side. You swung a leg carefully over his thighs, sitting on his lap. Clint’s hands moved automatically to your legs, curling around the backs of your knees to hold you in place. There was the beginning of a smirk curling the edge of his mouth; he always did catch on fast. He trailed his fingers up the backs of your thighs slowly. You were wearing a loose pair of shorts and one of his tee shirts, and his fingertips teased at the hem of your shorts, just below the curve of your backside. “That scrunched up, manly-man face you make when you’re concentrating on a workout.”</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clint told you with a smile, tucking an arm under his head. His other hand moved to the top of your thigh, pushing the material of your shorts a little higher.</p><p>“NO?” you scratched your nails lightly along his stomach, down to his hips. When you reached the waistband of his shorts you pushed your hands up under his shirt, ghosting your touch over the muscles of his stomach. He shivered as you did. “Sure, you do.”</p><p>“Not a clue.”</p><p>“Y’know, that—” you screwed up your face in an exaggerated impression of his, curling your arms in front of you in a macho pose. Clint almost choked on a laugh, and you fell into a bout of giggles.</p><p>“I do not look like that!”</p><p>“You do!” you teased as he tried to grab hold of your arms. “You get all gruff and focused and ‘grr’ when you’re lifting, and—”</p><p>Clint managed to catch hold of your arms, cutting you off when he pulled you down to kiss him. Your arms trapped between your chest and his fingers curling in your hair, the kiss was sweet and wanting, a delicious combination of soft tongue and the graze of teeth on your bottom lip. Already eager, he rolled his hips up between your legs. Your breath caught as he did, returning to you in a light, airy moan that had him groaning against you.</p><p>Clint brushed hair from the side of your face, his hand lingering on your cheek as he spoke against your lips. “You were saying?”</p><p>“I…” you shook your head, a small smile teasing at your lips. “I forget.”</p><p>Clint snickered, one hand sliding down your back to slap your backside lazily. You laughed as he squeezed a cheek, kissing him again before you straightened. You slid your hands down to his chest to his waistband again – his shorts were already slung sinfully low on his hips – and you traced the curve of his hip bone before snapping the elastic lightly against him.</p><p>He sobered, but that cocky smirk remained, and he tucked both hands behind his head expectantly. You returned the smile, eyes on his as you moved back to sit on his thighs and reached inside his shorts to wrap your hand around the length of him. He was already hardening in your grip, and you watched him exhale slowly as you stroked him slowly, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock.</p><p>You watched him come undone with your touch, his breathing steadily becoming ragged as you brought him closer and closer to climax. You were good at this – you knew how to read every little twitch in his expression, knew just how much pressure to use and just when to slow again, keeping him from the ending he was slowly growing more and more desperate for. Clint could be wonderfully dominant in the bedroom, but times like this he practically melted under your touch. Even now, Clint mumbled curses and praise almost continuously under his breath, each whispered word sending sparks into your belly.</p><p>“You really do… <em>fuck… </em>you really do have magic hands, sweets.”</p><p>You hummed in approval at his flattery, pouting your lips playfully at him as you continued your ministrations to his cock. Your other hand smoothed over his hip bone and up under his shirt, the material dragging along with it to his chest. You pinched one of his nipples, a little too hard, and he jerked under your touch. His answering almost delirious snicker devolved into a drawn-out moan, his hips pressing up into your hand.</p><p>You scraped your nails over his stomach slowly, teeth touching your bottom lip as Clint swore again, his jaw tight. He was just so pretty like this.</p><p>“Seriously, baby, no one in the world has hands this goddamn soft…”</p><p>“You know, it’s because I have this amazing secret…” you murmured enticingly, reaching into his shorts with your free hand to tease his balls. Clint groaned as you did, low in his throat, his eyes rolling back. He took hold of your thighs, his grip hard and almost painful as you pumped him. You gave his cock a squeeze as you reached the base, and his breath caught. He was so close. “It’s called moisturizer.”</p><p>“It’s witchcraft, ‘s what it is.” he mumbled headily, his head falling back. “<em>Fuck, </em>you’re… too fucking good to me, Y/N.”</p><p>“Mmm… you say such pretty things when you’re like this, Clint.” you told him, trailing your fingers over his hip. “Now, just relax. And come for me, baby.”</p><p>It was barely another minute before Clint cursed, body arching slightly as his orgasm broke through him. His hands tightened on your thighs so hard you were suddenly sure that you’d bruise and he arched up beneath you, his voice choked as he cursed. You continued to stroke him as he relaxed again slowly, his hips jerking into your touch disjointedly. His come dripped over your fingers, most of it splattered on his stomach. He exhaled slowly, steadying himself, as you climbed of him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose before going to fetch the towel he’d left with his water bottle.</p><p>Clint laughed as he caught his breath, shaking his head against the bench. “Jesus…”</p><p>“Y/N is fine,” you teased as you returned, wiping off your hand and tossing the towel on his stomach.</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>You feigned an offended gasp as he cleaned himself off. “Is that anyway to thank me, Agent Barton?”</p><p>“Nope,” he replied easily, reaching for you. He caught the edge of your shorts, tugging at the hem. “Now, take these off, and come up here. I’ll show you how I say thank you.”</p><p>You felt yourself tighten in anticipation at his words, and you cast a glance towards the door before moving to do as he said. You barely had the chance to slide your shorts and underwear down your legs before Clint was groping for you again. Grabbing hold of your wrist, he tugged you towards him eagerly, guiding you to swing a leg back over him, underwear caught on your shoe.</p><p>You sighed pleasantly as you felt the brush of his lips, first on your left thigh, then on your right. His hands smoothed up the back of your thighs, his touch a wonderful tickle against your skin. They came to settle on your backside, squeezing firmly as his mouth moved to your cunt. Your breath left you in a high, drawn out moan as his tongue slid between your labia, and your hips bucked forward as it found your clit.</p><p>Clint chuckled at your reaction; his laugh muffled by your thighs. You gripped the bar in front of you for balance, rolling your hips against his mouth as he circled your clit with his tongue slowly.</p><p>“God… <em>damn, </em>Clint,” you whimpered, head falling back. He was always so good at this, so eager… you were coming undone so quickly, already so aroused from what you’d just done for him. Each slide of his tongue against you was bringing you closer to the edge, your moans too loud in the quiet of the empty gym. Clint’s fingers massaged your backside, you jerked forward with a surprised yelp as he pressed his thumb against your asshole. He laughed underneath you again, the vibrations making you shudder. “Prick.”</p><p>He turned his head to bite your thigh lightly by way of reply. His other hand left your ass to move to your front, slipping under your shirt to palm your breast. He tugged one cup of your bra down enough to catch your nipple between his fingers, his touch cool against your over-heated skin. He pinched it, hard, and you whimpered, back arching.</p><p>He didn’t stop even as you came; his tongue flicking over your clit until you were begging him to stop, your thighs shaking and body jerking from overstimulation. When he finally released you, he slid his hands slowly over your thighs and up to your waist, pressing another kiss to your thigh before helping you to stay steady as you dismounted from him. Your hand lingered on the bar for balance as your knees shook slightly. You were thankful you were wearing his shirt – it just barely covered the curve of your backside, allowing you some tiny semblance of modesty after what you’d just done.</p><p>Clint winked obnoxiously up at you as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning when you rolled your eyes at him in response. He tucked himself back into his shorts before his sat up, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you between his legs. You hurried to tug the hem of your shirt down as he did, and he responded by pulling up the front to smack a loud kiss to the skin below your navel. You shoved him away and he laughed.</p><p>“I can’t believe you just did that,” he teased with faux-judgement, shaking his head to hide his grin.</p><p>“You did it too!” you objected, gesturing down to your lack of pants as if to prove your point. You turned to redress, yelping in surprise as Clint smacked your ass.</p><p>“Yeah, but you started it.”</p><p>“Well, then, next time I’ll just resist the urge.”</p><p>“Don’t you dare!” Clint exclaimed, standing. He grabbed your elbow, turning you around and pulling you in for a kiss. You melted into it quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening it. His hands moved to your waist, tugging up your shirt to tease the bare skin beneath it. “Now. What do you say we get your ass back up to my room, get you naked, and I’m thinking… all wet and soapy in the shower, and we do this again?”</p><p>You grinned, kissing him again. “You read my mind, Hawkeye.”</p>
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